Untitled

Ilya does love seeing old photos of Shane. Fat Baby Shane™ in all his forms, toddler Shane in his little hockey gear, Shane in elementary school with a big missing-teeth smile, Shane blowing out the candles on his 10th birthday, Shane holding up his brand new driver's license at 16. The list goes on.

One day Yuna finds an old disposable camera. The expiration date on it says 2009. She tells Shane about it; it might have some old photos from his graduation on it or something. She'd gotten a digital camera around that time so she can't remember what she used this one for. Shane is pretty indifferent about it.

Yuna sends the camera off to some company that still develops old camera film. It's about 15 years old at this point, though, so whatever is on it might not even develop correctly.

A few weeks later Shane and Ilya are over for dinner. Yuna tells them she got the photos back and they actually turned out ok. She hands over the stack of 10 photos. Shane rolls his eyes, but Ilya grabs the photos and starts flipping through them. The first two look like they are from some school event; there's Shane surrounded by similarly aged kids in an auditorium. There's one of the three of them on Thanksgiving that year and another of the three of them with Yuna's parents at the same dinner. Two of David asleep on the couch with the family dog clearly taken on different days. One of a Christmas tree in the Hollander's living room. The next two are Shane on the ice in a rink that Ilya recognizes as the one in Regina. The one from their first World Juniors Tournament.

And Ilya freezes. The last photo in the stack is a close-up of Shane. He's in a white hoodie with a black coat over it. He has on a dark green beanie and he's standing next to the door to the rink. He's smiling for the camera and his freckles are crinkled near his eyes. It's the Shane that so awkwardly and so confidently introduced himself to Ilya the first time they met. The Shane that had tried so hard to talk to Ilya then. The Shane that Ilya could admit to himself now that he'd had a bit of a crush on already. His Shane.

And Luca and the other rookies being like, oh you mean the Dad-Trifecta? it's the best thing that has ever happened to us.

You loose your skates or you need help with paperwork or you're just feeling kinda sad and need a dad hug - you go Bood. he will grill you some chicken and go speak to Coach for you. You call him or Cassie if you're sick and they will pick you up and deposit you on the floor with Milo and you are their baby now. I'm 23 years old but that's my dad tho

If you're having trouble with other players, or if you're in like, a crisis? Mama Bear Ilya, will 100% get arrested for any of us and/or pick you up from the middle of nowhere any time of night. You wanna ragebait other players? He has the perception of a God and can tell from one look when a players second wife will leave him. He can also tell when you're feeling like shit mentally and he will pick you up take you to Harris farm and make you dog walk with him while throwing sweets at you. Holmberg got high sticked the other week Ilya spent like, 2 hours going through the guys Instagram with us while wine drunk and ripping his entire life to pieces with us.

various dentists

hotel housekeeping staff

the kid who works late shifts at the drugstore where Ilya buys condoms (often) and lube (less often)

cleaners and laundry service employees

a kid on vacation with his parents in Vegas bored out of his mind because he's 14 and not allowed in the bars or casinos at their hotel and he's really hitting the grumpy teenager phase so he's pissed at his parents because he wanted to go birdwatching in the desert and instead he's on the hotel roof at night pointing his sick-ass binoculars (which he bought himself with money he earned by mowing their neighbours' lawns for a year) at the surrounding buildings and oh look there's two people making out on that rooftop terrace—wait, isn't that the guy from the Rolex ads?

Janice at the grocery store closest to the Hollander cottages who knows damn well that "David's boy" doesn't eat Nutella

the Voyageurs' nutritionist knows Hollander is fucking someone working for the Bears because he might not log it as sex but even Hollander doesn't actually do extra cardio after a game

employee at an airport phone repair kiosk in Chicago who was checking Ilya’s battery specs when "Jane" texted him "If I win you suck my dick first"

one of the parents at Game Changers Hockey Camp who is a couple's counsellor and a bit too good at her job

Gerry (78) three doors down from the Hollanders who has lived in his house since he was born and has made it his solemn duty to know everything that goes on in his neighbourhood

the owner of the bespoke jeweller's shop once Shane Hollander purchases the second ring, which is identical to the first, and a plain gold chain

"LOL Jeremy is the only character not under the thumb and eye and control of organized crime. He is going to be so shocken when..."

Babes. Jeremy Knox is controlled by a family of corrupt, conservative politicians. The patriarch of whom is a United States fucking Senator.

Babes. Jeremy Knox is controlled by a bribed and corrupt police force.

Babes. Jeremy Knox is controlled by those who could very well control the FBI.

Babes. Jeremy Knox is controlled by the highest echelon of organized crime in America.

"Are you okay? About Thea…" Jeremy will ask, worried about his friend's divorce.

Kevin won't think much of it.

"It was to be expected. The exy couldn't keep us together forever."

Jeremy will offer support, a conversation Kevin doesn't want to have. Jean will simply look at him with a raised eyebrow, because he knows Kevin and Thea well. The idea that the exy couldn't keep them together forever is nonsense, and they both know it.

Perhaps that's why Kevin angrily avoids Jean's gaze.

"I never thought the exy would end up separating you," Jean finally interjects. "As if there were anything more important in your world."

Kevin looks up from his glass (no alcohol, which also sets off alarm bells for Jean) for just a few seconds to glance at him.

"That's not how it is. There have always been things as important as the exy."

Jeremy smiles smugly. Jean would too… if he didn't know how to detect Kevin's lies by omission.

"Do we know this person?" he asks bluntly.

Kevin tenses immediately, his gaze hardening. Jeremy raises an eyebrow at Jean but says nothing. They've been gossiping about it. Jeremy has just as many suspicions as Jean, but Jean isn't afraid to be rude to Kevin.

"Are you implying I've been unfaithful to Thea? No. Don't go there," Kevin cuts him off immediately.

So Jean knows. Oh, he knows.

"I don't care who it is. It'll come out sooner or later anyway."

Kevin pales. The way Kevin clenches his left hand for a second reveals everything Jean needed to know.

He's stunned.

"…He's a man," Jean ventures.

Kevin immediately gets up and gives him a look that could freeze hell.

"Fuck you, Jean."

And he leaves.

"I told you so," says Jeremy, the bastard.

and the kid is WINNING. shane is clearly not pulling his punches and a significant number ARE going into the net (because, at the end of the day this is still The Shane Hollander vs a middle-schooler) but the kid is saving enough goals that it’s noticeable

and ilya captions the post. “if our child is capable of this level of goaltending at 8 imagine how good he’ll be in ten years” and then his next post is “oh wait, you don’t need to imagine” and the accompanying video is some of the best saves he’s made that year

“Chopping carrots with Ilya,” Shane sings under his breath. “Making salad with Ilya.”

Yuna smiles softly from the dining room. This is one of her favorite things about her son. From the time he could (barely) talk, he made up little songs about anything and everything. The first time he’d done it, he’d been strapped into his car seat and watching cars go by. When he’d caught Yuna’s eye in the rear view mirror, he’d smiled with all 8 of his little teeth and waved.

“Dwiving,” he’d sung, all of 18 months old and barely able to say the word properly. “Dwivin’ wi’ Mama. Wuv Mama.”

Yuna’s not sure if it’s Shane’s way of processing the world around him, just A Thing some people do, or something special about her baby boy. All she knows is that from the first time he’d made up a little tune about Driving With Mama, everything turned into a song. When he’s comfortable and feeling at ease, Shane turns little things around him into music.

Learning to tie his shoes? “Daddy’s teaching me to tie my shoes. One lace over the other. Make the bunny ears!”

Gearing up for practice when he was 8? “Going to practice. Gonna be great. Gonna score a goal!”

Studying for a science test? “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Everyone says it because it’s true. Moving on—organelles and cell walls.”

Gearing up for his first Metros game as captain? “Taping my hockey stick. Going out on the ice. Gonna kick some ass.”

It’s something so uniquely, adorably, perfectly Shane.

Today, though? As Shane’s in the kitchen preparing a salad for lunch? For the first time, someone else sings along. For the first time in Shane’s life, someone hears the tune and lyrics that only exist in his head and joins in.

“Making salad with Shane,” Ilya croons along, hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder and wrapping strong arms around his waist. “Preparing lunch with my love.”

Shane smiles and sings back as Ilya nuzzles his neck. “Being domestic with my boyfriend. Thinking of boring things we can do together.”

Ilya laughs and kisses his ear before finishing the song. “I love to be boring with yooouuuu.”

Shane pauses on the other line, breath catching as he holds back overwhelming emotion.

“Mom,” he croaks. “I…fuck.”

Yuna stays calm. She mentally takes stock of the situation. Ilya’s fine—he just texted her, a few seconds before Shane called, to warn her of the incoming storm. David’s fine—he’s sitting right next to her, confused and alarmed as their son has some manner of episode on the phone. She’s fine. So what’s—

“—wi’ Dada!”

…oh. Oh.

It’s soft at first, but picking up in volume. Tiny pit-pats in the background accompany the most beautiful little voice Yuna’s heard since Shane made up his first song, Driving With Mama, from his car seat all those years ago.

“Eating,” the little voice sings in the background. It’s garbled by what Yuna assumes are half-chewed remnants of an afternoon snack; probably organic peanut butter on apple slices. “Eating wi’ Dada. Eating wi’ Papa. Dada on phone! Who on phone, Dada?”

There’s wet laughter in the background, further from the phone. “Oh God, Shane. It’s genetic. She’s a little you!”

More tearful laughter, this time from Shane. “That’s not—she’s adopted, Ilya.”

“I don’t care what the papers say. She is you. Listen to her, she is perfect. She must be part you, sweetheart.”